


I am Iron Woman

by MissClaraOswinOswald



Series: Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Marvel Universe, Sherlolly Appreciation Week, Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017, Sherlolly Week 2017, Tony Feels, Tony and Molly friendship, marvel crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-01 04:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissClaraOswinOswald/pseuds/MissClaraOswinOswald
Summary: Molly Hooper is a CEO, pathologist, and an S.H.E.L.F. agent (the British equivalent of S.H.I.E.L.D.). She is hired to protect Sherlock Holmes from James Moriarty, but ends up getting kidnapped herself in the end. She and Tony Stark start to work on a suit in order to take Moriarty down. Written for Sherlolly Appreciation Week Day 7, "free choice". Marvel crossover.





	I am Iron Woman

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again! I'm so excited to post this story, especially because I have worked on it since August 2016. It is very similar to my "Super Hooper", because I got the idea for this one after I'd written that fic. Originally, this wasn't a Marvel crossover, but I simply love Tony Stark too much to leave him out. If you enjoyed this story, please comment or leave kudos! I hope to see you all next year for Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2018!

Molly Hooper woke up to nothingness. The house was entirely empty; even the maid was gone. Not to mention that she had fired the maid herself because Molly couldn’t stand her endless chatting about nonsense.  
  
Molly missed Henry on moments like these. He would have made her pancakes, her favorites, for breakfast, and would have distracted her with some story about his life before sending her off to school. 

But Henry had passed away eleven years ago, shortly before she went to college.

The house had some kind of eerie ambiance now; it wouldn’t surprise her if any kind of fog would appear in the next couple of hours. She stood up, not bothering changing clothes or even looking at herself in the mirror. Why would she bother getting dressed or making breakfast anyway? It’s not like anyone cared.  

The papers she had to sign to become CEO of Hooper Industries were lying untouched on the dining table. She sat down and stared at them. Why would she want to take over from her father? She was nothing more than a disappointment to him; she was absolutely sure he would never have trusted her with his beloved company. Not that he had much to say now, he was buried six feet down together with her mother in a grave at the nearby cemetery. 

She picked up a pen and signed the papers. Her father would have revived himself knowing that the company he worked so hard for was being sold to an enemy; her taking over as CEO was the only way to protect his legacy. 

Molly Hooper, CEO. She didn’t like the sound of it. She was Dr. Molly Hooper, the pathologist. Well, only since two weeks. She was grateful her father had been at her graduation- the only graduation he’d ever been to; to see her accomplish something. She might not be the daughter he wished for, but whether he liked it or not, she was still his. Her mother, on the other side, had been always warm, trying to compensate for her father’s coldness. She was a charming woman, in charge of a big part of the company. Her mother had been a good person, even she had been absent too. Henry, the family butler, and his wife had practically raised Molly as their own daughter. 

The phone rang as she was overthinking everything. 

“Hello?” She said. 

“Agent Hooper, I am stopping by later this morning. We have some things to discuss,” Greg Lestrade said. 

 “I am not an agent,” She said. Molly knew Lestrade from her father. He worked with him on weapons or something and could be very cogent. “I suppose I can’t refuse, can I?”  

 “No. I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Lestrade said before he hung up.  She sighed. Now she really had to dress up. After a quick shower, she put on the only clothes she could find that still fitted her in her wardrobe, a university tee and jeans. Her parents' mansion was located in Northern England, near the Hooper Industries Headquarters. She lived in a penthouse in Central London, near Barts, where she had gotten a job. Molly loathed her parents’ place and had been happy to leave for college. 

* * *

 

“Care for coffee?” She asked Lestrade. 

“Good to know you’re still observant,” Lestrade answered, walking into the kitchen. 

“You have a signature walk,” Molly answered. 

Lestrade gave her a file. “I’ve got something for you.” 

“I’m not interested.” 

“We want to protect your father’s legacy. This is a job offer,” Lestrade said. 

“I’m a pathologist and CEO. Do you want to kill me by giving me even more responsibilities?” 

“Your father was working on several things before he died and I need you to continue working on them. We offer you a good amount of money.” 

 “I have enough money,” She answered, “Enough to live several lifetimes in comfort, actually. The company is worth millions of pounds.” 

 “Read the file, come back to me later.” He left. 

 Molly turned away from the kitchen table, looking for some alcohol and her cell phone. 

 “Mary? Can you stop by?” 

* * *

 

 “So he offered you a job?” Mary said, “What about Barts?” 

 “I’m afraid I’ll have to reject their job offer. I’ll start working full time at Hooper Industries. Dad already moved a part of HQ’s to his new building in London.” 

 “And Lestrade?” Mary asked. 

“S.H.E.L.F. isn’t going to let me go. I’ve got my dad’s brains, I just never bothered occupying myself with his field of research,” She answered, “I’ll look at the file, call Lestrade back. Maybe I can borrow one of their Quinjets. Gosh, I really don’t want to drive all the way back to London.” 

Mary nodded. “We’re driving to Edinburgh to catch the plane back to London tomorrow. I’m sure we can get you a ticket.” 

 “I’d like that,” Molly answered. 

 “Do you mind me leaving this early?” Mary asked, “John called me three times already, he still needs some guidance with Rosie sometimes.” 

 “She’s only three months old, Mary. It’s logical that John is still unsure about all the baby stuff.” 

 Mary smiled. “Yeah, I know.  Don’t you feel the need to settle down, Molly?” 

 “Me? I just graduated from med school, Mary. You’re one, five years older than I am, two, it absolutely suits you,” Molly laughed, “I’m perfectly content with being a godmother to Rosamund and babysitting every once in a while, but babies or a husband aren’t on my priorities list right now.” 

 “Okay, well, keep me updated,” Mary said, “I really have to go now.” 

 Molly hugged her. “Go and give Rosie a kiss from her godmother.” 

 “I will. See you,” Mary answered. 

 Then, the house was empty and quiet again. 

* * *

 

 “Thanks for getting me this ticket, Mary,” Molly said the next morning. She arrived at the airport with three big suitcases, all with her parents’ stuff. The business class was entirely empty, except the four of them. 

 “You’re welcome, love,” Mary answered, cradling Rosamund. John had fallen asleep already. “Did you call Lestrade yet?” 

 “Nope. I entertained myself with a Netflix marathon yesterday,” Molly answered, “The new S.H.E.L.F. employee needs her fair bit of sleep. I didn’t call Lestrade, I’ll call him as soon as I’m back in London.” 

 Molly pulled out the file. “I can better some reading on this job he wants me to do.”  She opened up the file and read quickly. “I can’t believe he wants me to do,” she said. 

 “It’s all top secret, Molls,” Mary said, “You never know who’s eavesdropping this conversation.” 

 “We’re on an airplane, what could happen?” At that exact moment, turbulence kicked in. 

 “See?” Mary said. 

 “It’s just turbulence,” Molly said. 

 “What?” John woke up and so did Rosie. 

 “Shh,” Mary cradled the baby, “It’s just daddy, sweetheart. He just makes strange noises every once in a while.”  Rosie stopped crying and looked at Molly with her big blue eyes. Molly closed hers.

“I think I’m going to catch a little sleep while I still can.” 

* * *

 

The plane arrived at Heathrow a little while later. The airport was busy as always, and someone from Hooper Industries was waiting for her. 

 “Miss Hooper, we are very happy to have you back in London,” the guy in the suit said. 

 “Can I see an ID?” Molly asked. 

 “Absolutely, Ma’am,” The employee said and handed it over. Molly inspected it carefully, before deciding it was real. “My name is Jaymes,” the employee said. 

 “Jaymes, right. Could you please pick up my luggage?” 

 “Yes, Ma’am. The car is waiting outside.” 

 Molly waited patiently for the employee to pick up her luggage. “Where are you taking me, exactly?” 

 “HQ.” 

* * *

 

But HQ wasn’t the location Molly thought it was. She was brought to MI6 HQ. 

 “Welcome, Miss Hooper,” Mycroft Holmes shook her hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” 

 Molly sighed. “And who are you?” 

 “Mycroft Holmes, head of MI6, deputy head of S.H.E.L.F. and I occupy a minor position in the British government.” 

 “You’re kidding,” Molly said, “I didn’t really dress for the occasion.” 

“We don’t judge you on your appearance, miss Hooper,” Lestrade said, walking into the room. 

 “Sit down,” Mycroft said. 

 Molly obeyed and sat. “You are here today to talk about your new occupation.” 

 “You want me to watch a guy,” She said, “I don’t understand.” 

 “This is Sherlock Holmes we’re talking about.” 

 “Who?” 

 “My goodness, Hooper. Did you even see a paper in the past five years?” Lestrade asked. 

 “Not really, why?” She answered. 

 “Sherlock Holmes is the most famous consulting detective in the world. Stubborn and annoying,” Lestrade said. 

“Arguably. Besides that, he’s my little brother,” Mycroft said. 

 “He visits St. Bartholomew’s Hospital often, to do some work at the lab there. You have a degree, they already hired you. We got you an apartment, 221c, in the same building.” 

“Perfect spy, ain’t I?” Molly said. 

“You start today,” Mycroft said, “And you’re checking in with me twice a day. I expect you monitor his usage. We set up a cover for you. We contacted Barts, they changed your ID’s and everything. From now on you are Ms. Mia Hooper. The Hooper family is too well-known, we can’t have you disappear entirely, so we got you a disguise.” 

 “A disguise,” Molly said. 

 “Yes. We got you a wig, contacts. Different wardrobe.” 

 “How bad is it?” 

 “Green contacts, dirty blonde wig.” 

 “That’s not very good,” Molly answered. 

 “Now that we have this figured out, miss Hooper, someone is waiting in the other room to help you with your metamorphosis.” 

 Molly sighed and went through it all. The dirty blonde wig was long, she had properly long hair now, but she hated the contacts. They dressed her up in a faux fur coat, tight black dress and leather boots.

 “Your cab is waiting. The landlady, Mrs. Hudson will welcome you at Baker Street,” Mycroft said. 

 Molly was welcomed to Baker Street by Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. “Welcome to London, dear.” 

“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson.” 

“This is your flat, Mia. I’m surprised someone wanted to rent the place. The bathroom is upstairs, ground floor. Where do you work?” 

“Barts Hospital, I’m a pathologist.” 

“Well, you don’t look like one. I thought you were working as a personal assistant,” Mrs. Hudson answered. 

“Just because I’m blonde...” Molly whispered. 

“Well, your furniture came in earlier today,” Mrs. Hudson chatted. 

The room was quite snug, but Molly missed her penthouse already. Especially her piano and bed. 

 “I’ll leave you to it, we’re having dinner with your upstairs neighbors later today.” 

 Sherlock, Molly thought. “Sure, erm, I’m looking forward to it.” 

 Mrs. Hudson left the room, and Molly sat down. 

 Open your closet – MH 

 Molly did as asked and opened it. Inside the closet, there was a panel with a computer and other stuff from S.H.E.L.F. “Nice.” 

“Welcome, Dr. Molly Hooper. S.H.E.L.F. is happy to have you. My name is Wednesday.” 

“Hello, Wednesday,” Molly said. 

 “You have a meeting at Barts to attend later this afternoon and a phone call with the deputy CEO of Hooper Industries at 5. Dinner with Mrs. Hudson and Mr. Holmes starts at 19:00.” 

“Thanks, Friday.” Molly turned away from the panel to her dressing wardrobe. “Why did they have to put me inside a box?” She looked inside the wardrobe. “Oh god. I thought it couldn’t get any worse.” 

* * *

 

The meeting at Barts was standard stuff- talking about patients. The deputy CEO of HI needed to know what she was planning to do with the company. Well, that plan was currently on hold. She spent some time in the lab, which was far under equipped. She missed the small lab at her penthouse. She could go back and stay there, but it could compromise her entire mission. She was looking at some tissue samples when the door of the lab opened. A tall man, with curly dark hair, wearing a tight black suit came in. 

 “Who are you?” She asked, recognizing Sherlock Holmes immediately. 

 “What are you doing in my lab?” He asked. 

 “One, this isn’t your lab, it’s mine. Mia Hooper, I’m the new pathologist.” 

 “You’re the replacement of Dr. Caravaggio?” 

 “I’m afraid so. Can I help you with something, Mr, erm?” 

 “Holmes, Sherlock Holmes,” He answered absentmindedly, and handed her a list, “I need this stuff.” 

 “I will see what I can do for you,” Molly answered. 

 His phone rang. “Finally,” he sighed and walked away. 

Molly was left speechless, all alone in the lab. “And I have to protect that.” 

She arrived at 221b at exactly seven thirty, just on time. Sherlock, John, Mary and Mrs. Hudson were waiting for you. Molly was seated next to Sherlock. 

“What are you doing here?” He asked. 

“I’m the new neighbor, I’m living at 221c,” She said. 

"You're being serious?" Sherlock said. 

"Yep, our Mia's your new neighbor," John said. 

"You know this woman?" Sherlock said.

"Mia is my best friend," Mary said, "She came to our wedding, remember?" 

"Why would I bother talking to someone I don't know?" Sherlock asked.

John sighed. "Don't let Mycroft hear this.” 

Molly’s phone rang. Tony Stark appeared as caller ID. “Damn, I have to take this.” 

She walked downstairs so Sherlock couldn’t hear her. “Molly Hooper.” 

“Miss Hooper, hello,” Tony Stark said smoothly, “Tony here. Did someone from S.H.E.L.F. announce my arrival?”  

“No, but knowing you, I was preparing for your arrival,” Molly answered, “What can I help you with?” 

“I want to talk business. I am at your penthouse, Lestrade said I could stay there as long as I was in London.” 

“Fine, I’ll come. I’ll be there in an hour.” 

“Wine or whiskey?” Stark asked.

“You know what I like,” Molly answered and hung up. She returned to the table, keeping up her fake smile.

“Everything okay?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, it was just a concerned patient,” Molly lied and focused on the food in front of her while watching Sherlock closely. She noticed his way of speaking, the way he ate or rather didn’t eat and how he was observing the world. 

After 30 minutes, Sherlock stood up and left without a word. “He does that all the time.” Mrs. Hudson said, “It’s normal for him.” 

Molly nodded. “It was wonderful, Mrs. Hudson, but I have an appointment in 30 minutes.” She drove herself to her penthouse, where Tony Stark was waiting for her. He was sitting on her couch, with a glass of wine in his left hand. He wore a suit and loafers and seemed to feel entirely at home at her apartment. “Tony,” she said, smiling broadly, “It’s so good to see you.’

“Molly,” he said, standing up. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her. “I am sorry about your parents, Molls.” 

“Thank you,” she said, “We missed you at the funeral.” 

“Captain America was being stubborn,” Tony answered, “I wish I could have been there.”

“How’s Pepper? And Nat?” Molly asked.

“Pepper’s fine, as always. She wanted to be here, but she had an emergency briefing in D.C. Nat’s fine, for as far as I know. The team misses you.” 

“I miss them too,” Molly said, “I wish I could have stayed with you guys.”

“You’re a pathologist now, Molls. And an agent for S.H.E.L.F. And C.E.O.” 

“But still, you guys are more fun to work with than the people I have to work with.” They sat down, Tony handing Molly a beer. “So why are you here, Tony?” 

“I am interested in partnership with Hooper Industries. Stark Industries is the biggest technology manufacturer in the US and beyond, but Hooper industries are big here in Europe. I believe our two companies could learn a lot from each other and help develop new products. We are currently busy with developing a new Quinjet for S.H.I.E.L.D. and products for the Avengers.”

“Yes, Lestrade told me.”

“Our companies could still learn from each other,” Tony kept saying.

“I do think your company has a lot to offer Hooper Industries, especially because I have no idea what to do with it.”

“What about you still being C.E.O. but Pepper taking over for a while until your mission is done?” 

“That sounds fair,” Molly answered, “You have already all the papers, I guess?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” Tony said, “Your father asked me to look after you. I’m not breaking that promise.” 

“I’m 32,” she scoffed, “I can look after myself.” 

“Whatever,” Tony answered, “The most important thing is that I’m here to help you with Hooper Industries and your mission.”

“That is top-secret.” Tony smiled.

“Sherlock Holmes. High-functioning sociopath. As soon as Fury told me what Lestrade had said about your mission I knew London was the place to be.”

“I just have to get close to him and protect him.” 

“From whom exactly?” Tony asked.

“I have no idea,” She answered.

* * *

 

They spent the night drinking and talking about the days her parents were still alive. Molly had always liked Tony, even in his early days. She was 16 when she met him for the first time at a business conference with her parents. She was immediately charmed by him and they’d become good friends over the years. It wasn’t the first time they fell asleep on the couch after too many beers and late night talking. 

“Molly Louise Hooper, where the hell are you?” Lestrade shouted through the speaker of Molly’s phone, “It’s 11 am, you were meant to be with Sherlock since 7!” 

Molly smiled and ended the phone call. “I grabbed us some breakfast,” Tony said, holding up a bag of freshly baked bread, “Was that Lestrade?”

“Yes,” Molly answered, “Angry because I was meant to do something with Sherlock.”

Tony sat down. “Molls, you ought to keep your promises. You cannot show up 3 hours too late on a mission, it can compromise the entire thing.” 

Molly stopped smiling, “Oh, so now you know everything about being a perfect agent.” 

“I am not saying I do, but these kinds of missions are important. If the Avengers don’t show up on time, people will die.”

Molly grabbed her coat. “Well, then I am off to work.” 

“Take care, Molls.”

* * *

 

Molly found Sherlock at Barts and decided not to lose him anymore. He wasn’t on a case, just doing research. Research on Moriarty. Molly had no idea who he was until Sherlock told her about him during a cold night a couple of days later. 

“Moriarty is a consulting criminal,” Sherlock explained. 

“That is?” 

“If you need a crime solved, you come to me. If you need a crime committed, you go to him,” Sherlock explained, “We have an on-going conflict.” 

“Can I do anything for you to make the situation better?” Molly asked.

Sherlock looked surprised. “Nobody has asked me that before.” 

“That’s why I am asking it,” Molly said.

“I would need someone who’s not involved,” He answered, “It was nice seeing you, Mia.” 

He stood up and retired to his bedroom. Molly looked surprised but knew this need of his could be the perfect cover. She could be his rock. Rocks do a decent job at protecting and she knew she could do exactly that. 

“Who are you?” A male voice asked her when she was standing on a corner, observing Sherlock, “You look unfamiliar.”

Molly turned around, to see the face of Jim Moriarty. Her hand was already resting on her coat where her gun was hiding. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Molly said.

“Hi, I’m Jim Moriarty,” he introduced himself to her, “You are Ms. Molly Hooper, queen of Hooper Industries. Or Mia? What name do you prefer nowadays?” He smiled, “I’m really sorry about your mom and dad, though. It was simply necessary.” 

“My name is Mia, my parents are still alive and I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said stubbornly. She tried to walk away, but the men grabbed her. 

“You are coming with us, miss Hooper. No bargaining.” 

She resisted, but the two men were too strong. That was the point she started firing her gun. She shot two men, one dead, one wounded. 

“That’s enough, Molly,” Jim said and in one smooth move, he grabbed the gun. He blindfolded her, brought her to a house and locked her up in the cellar. It was a lab like Tony had.  

She struggled, blinked several times when he took the blindfold off. “Welcome, Ms. Hooper. This is your working spot,” Moriarty said, “We need you to build an Iron Man suit. I know you know Tony Stark really, really well. If you don’t build this suit within a week, I will kill you personally.” 

“What about Sherlock?” Molly dared to ask. 

“He is my pet, my toy. It was stupid of S.H.E.L.F. to think that you could spy on him without me knowing.”

Moriarty went upstairs, leaving Molly alone with another guy, who introduced himself as Colin, an Ph.D. student in engineering. They had abducted him as well. 

They started drawing, making plans. Molly started calculating. She knew Tony, yes. She was one of the two or three people who had actually seen the original plans and drawings of the Iron Man suit. 

Only one problem: Molly was in no way able to build a suit, not even with help from Colin. She had all the things needed for a suit, even Hooper Industries, and Stark Industries weapons, yet her plans lacked something. She started designing in her head, over and over again. A blue suit, light blue, with light yellow details. Not too threating, not too childish. Moriarty’s men brought her coffee and food several times a day. After three days, Molly had made a little progress, but there was zero chance she would actually finish the suit on time. 

“My dearest, what do you need?” Moriarty asked later that day.

“Tony Stark,” she answered, jokingly. 

“Naturally,” Moriarty answered. He stood up and left her. 

“I was joking,” she said, but he was gone. He returned a couple of hours later with a handcuffed and blindfolded Tony Stark. 

“Here you go,” Moriarty said, “Have fun.” 

Molly took Tony’s blindfold off, “Are you okay?”

Tony hugged her. “I’m abducted, sweetheart. What have you been up to? The whole city of London is looking out for you.”

Molly shrugged. “Moriarty wants an Iron Man suit, which is why you are here.” 

“Who’s that guy?” Tony pointed at Colin. 

“Ph.D. in engineering,” Molly answered. 

“Ah.” Tony rolled up his sleeves, “I’m going to make you a suit, Molly. Do with it whatever you want; I will make sure the suit will only respond to you.”

“Fine,” Molly said, realizing it was the only way to escape. “Just like you did.” 

Tony smiled. “I have you and Engineering now, what can possibly go wrong?” 

* * *

 

Apparently, everything. In the three hours Tony had been in the cellar, they had set the entire house on fire. Moriarty had to flee and Molly, Tony, and Colin were able to escape. As soon as they were outside, an S.H.E.L.F. car picked them up. Lestrade was waiting for them in his office.

“Agent Hooper, what were you thinking?” He asked her, “You revealed yourself on a mission!”

“Technically, sir, they revealed my identity.” 

Lestrade sighed. “I appreciate you trying. But Mr. Stark, you have experience. Why did you get yourself kidnapped?” 

Tony shrugged. “Seemed fun.” 

“I honestly can’t believe you’re actually a real human sometimes,” Molly said. 

Tony smiled. “Welcome to the club.” 

* * *

 

Molly wasn’t comfortable knowing Moriarty was out in London. She stopped sleeping and joined Sherlock instead. He slept only three hours or less a night, so there was enough time left to talk to Molly. He usually played her some violin pieces he composed for her. She only slept when he was playing the violin; the only moment she felt truly safe. Molly usually slept curled up in John’s chair, with a blanket that Sherlock had bought her. It was originally meant for kids, but Sherlock had found it adorable and bought it anyway. It had the complete anatomy of the human body on it.

“Do you want tea?” She asked Sherlock one night, roughly at three am, “Mrs. Hudson got us your favorite green tea.”

“Yes,” Sherlock answered, his pen dancing over the paper, putting new notes on the sheet.  Molly handed him a mug.

“What are you composing?”

“A lullaby,” Sherlock answered, “For Rosie. Mary told me she has trouble sleeping.”

Molly curled up in the opposite chair, covering herself with the blanket. “Please, play it.”

Sherlock got his violin and started. Slowly, but steadily, Molly fell asleep.

He smiled and kept playing the piece over and over again. “Noted, agent Hooper,” he whispered.

* * *

 

The next morning, Tony Stark appeared at 221b. Mrs. Hudson hadn’t stopped freaking out over the presence of a ‘real’ ( _“Oh, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, Sherlock, but you’ve been around for ages.”)_ celebrity at her house. 

“What can I do for you, Mr. Stark?” Sherlock said.

“Recently, I met James Moriarty.”

“He abducted you, along with my neighbor.”

“Indeed. I need to know who I’m up against,” Tony told him.

Sherlock smiled.

Tony walked over to Molly. “Our dearest Mol-Mia, wake up.” He shook her up a little bit.  

Molly woke up slowly, yawning. “Tony? What are you doing here?”

“Could I talk to you, for a second?” He asked her.

She nodded, went downstairs to her room. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

“Moriarty has continued building the suit,” he told her, “The majority of our plans were destroyed when we were rescued, yet Moriarty managed to save the most important ones. We are in trouble.”

“Shoot,” Molly said, “What do we do now?”

“If he has the plans, he has the power to rule the world. That suit can destroy the world we know, ”Tony said.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I am going to build you a suit.”

“Never thought you would ever say those words.”

* * *

 

And so it happened. They let Sherlock in on the plan, for no particular reason. Sherlock wasn’t stupid, he knew Mycroft was involved in S.H.E.L.F. and he spoke to Lestrade about cases often. He did read news websites occasionally.  Tony Stark was a big player, you had to live under a rock for the past 20 years if you had missed out on him. Sherlock knew there was something bigger going on, that he was part of a bigger game now, a game in which his neighbor played a big role. They assembled every day at S.H.E.L.F. HQ. Sherlock was responsible for getting parts and solved some cases in the meantime to entertain Molly and Tony. Mary stopped by a couple of times with Rosie, which resulted in a delighted Sherlock. He was adorable when he was doting over the baby or playing with her.

“Security briefing,” Mycroft walked in, “Now.”

Molly stood up and followed Mycroft. Everyone, except Sherlock, was present in the room.

“Welcome, all,” Lestrade said, “We’re here today to talk about James Moriarty.”

“His suit is done,” Mycroft said, “Our spies have confirmed it. What’s our status?”

“Our suit is almost done, we only need more vibranium for the arch reactor.”

“The vibranium will come in in approximately three days until then we have to watch Moriarty.”

“What about Sherlock?” Molly asked.

“Locked up in Baker Street,” Mycroft answered, “Moriarty is being a true threat. We needed him out of the way so John dropped Rosamund off at Baker Street. Sherlock won’t leave Rosamund alone. We are absolutely sure he will stay indoors as long as Rosamund’s with him.”

 _Then you don’t know Sherlock as I do,_ Molly thought. They spoke some more about the plan, but Molly did her best to leave that room as soon as possible. She had to perfect her suit. Moriarty couldn’t win, he would destroy her entire life, one she had worked incredibly hard for. She didn’t enjoy being Mia Hooper, her vague cousin, but being a pathologist was a dream.

Molly returned to her suit again, sitting in front of it, fumbling wires.

“Can I talk to you?” Sherlock came in, in a very un-Sherlock-like way, walking behind Rosie’s stroller.

“Naturally,” Molly answered.

“Moriarty has sent me another warning.” He held up his phone. **Watch out for your little Molly Hooper, Sherlock. I know your heart best. Xoxo JM**

“Molly?” He asked.

Molly sighed and sat down again. “It’s a long story.”

“Why does everyone insist on lying to me? “Molly”? What’s next? You are going to tell me you aren’t a real pathologist?”

“That’s part is true,” she said tiredly, “I did go to med school for over a decade.”

“I should have seen it,” He mumbled, “You are a liar, I’ve seen that.”

“I was assigned to protect you, Sherlock.”

“Was it all a lie? Every night we spent together?”

Molly shook her head. “Of course not! I would never lie about that.”

“Then why couldn’t you tell me the truth?”

“That wasn’t my decision, Sherlock! I am an S.H.E.L.F. agent, I don’t have a say in what I can and can’t say. It all went to hell after my parents died.” Molly sat down, “I don’t have something to say in this male-dominated world, Sherlock. If S.H.E.L.F. tells me to keep a secret, I keep it.”

“Why were you hired?”

“To protect you from Jim Moriarty.”

“Ah, and a fine job you did,” he sneered.

“At least he didn’t get to you!” She raised her voice.

“No, but he got you. And your ‘bestie’. And he has a suit now, which is definitely an advantage for our side.”

“When did you start being so harsh again?” She whispered.

Sherlock turned his back on her. “Mycroft lied again. Again.”

Molly sighed. “I am sorry about your sister, Sherlock, but Mycroft-“

“You know about my sister?” He asked sharply.

“I read your file.”

“Everyone knew about Eurus before I did.” He walked away from her. “Don’t expect me to wait for you at Baker Street tonight.”

Molly shook her head. “I don’t.”

Sherlock shut the door behind him.

* * *

Tony and Molly worked for hours and hours after they got the vibranium. The suit was done, now Molly had to learn how to control it. That was basically the hardest part. She had seen Tony making adjustments to the suit when he was developing suits after the events in New York when she was training with the Avengers. She turned the camera on her phone on. “First day of testing the new suit. Let’s go.” Molly wore one glove on her right hand, “Come on.”  She pointed at the wall with parts. The parts slowly started moving and started flying to her. “Come on,” she whispered. The parts slowly started attaching to her body; it went quite smoothly for a first try. Then the mask came on, the suit turned on. “Hello, miss Hooper,” Wednesday said. 

“Oh, hey, Wednesday. Do you think we could try to fly?”

“Absolutely.” The suit took off, but when she was 50 centimeters above the ground, the engines refused to work, the suit fell apart and she fell down.

“Quite unsuccessful,” Molly decided.

Tony clapped. “Look at you and your new suit. It worked better than my first try.”

Molly shrugged. “It needs to work in order to defeat Moriarty. I can’t be up in the sky with the suit threatening to fall apart at my every move.”

“How’s Sherlock?” Tony asked.

Molly put the screwdriver she was holding down. “He didn’t take the whole ‘fake-identity part in order to protect him’ thing well. But that was to be expected.”

She looked at the suit. “Please, Wednesday, undo me of this metal.” The suit basically fell apart on the ground.

“That was meant to fly back to the base.” Molly sat down, “I haven’t got much hope left.” She turned to Tony. “Why don’t we use one of your suits to fight Moriarty?”

“Because S.H.I.E.L.D. has asked me not to. They do not want Iron Man to be affiliated with the Britons.”

“You American prick,” Molly poked him in the side.

“Not my decision, dear.”

He stood up. “Let me help you with these parts. Go home and talk to Sherlock. I’ll fix your suit.”

Molly smiled and hugged him. “Thank you, Tony.”

* * *

 

She went outside and drove herself home. To Baker Street. Mrs. Hudson was out, she’d left Molly something to eat in the fridge, plus a note saying she’d be back by twelve. This wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have, yet she couldn’t postpone it any longer. She knocked on the door. “Sherlock, it’s me.” Slowly she opened the door, finding Sherlock asleep on the ground. She cursed and rolled up his sleeves. New markings were present on his arms; he was still holding a needle. “Heroin,” Molly mumbled.

She slowly woke Sherlock up.

“Where am I?” He slowly awoke.

"Baker Street,” Molly helped him up, “What did you take?”

 “Heroin and I smoked an entire packet of cigs.”  He looked quite shaken, with his wrinkled shirt and unshaved face. His curls were greasy.

 “Okay,” Molly answered.

 “That’s the only thing you’re gonna say?” He said, “Your hair…”

 “What about my hair?”

 “I dunno, I noticed something,” He answered, “Probably something important. I still need to catch up with my brain.”

 “Clearly,” Molly mumbled, “Do you want any tea?”

 “If you mean by ‘tea’ another shot of heroin, yes, gladly.”

 Molly looked skeptical. “I know what tea means in your vocabulary, mister. I meant a real cup of tea. Have you eaten?”

 “Nope.”  Sherlock straightened his dressing gown.

Molly sighed. “How you have managed to survive to this point is a miracle.” She went downstairs, got the meal from the fridge and microwaved it. When she came back with the two plates, Sherlock was smoking a cigarette again.

Molly stood next to him, taking the cigarette from his hand to put it out. “Sherlock, smoking is very damaging for Rosie. And for you. I forbid you to smoke inside,” she put Sherlock’s plate down,“You are going to eat, now.”

 “You don’t have any authority to tell me what to do.”

 “I do. I am your friend, Sherlock. I care about you, you stubborn idiot.”

 He took a bite. “What’s this?”

 “Meatballs with mashed potatoes and cauliflower. Mrs. Hudson made it.” Molly had a bite herself. “Her cooking is amazing.”

 “It is,” he agreed, continuing to eat.

 When they were finished, Sherlock looked at her.

 “What’s wrong?” She asked.

 “Why do you call yourself my friend?” He asked, “You lied to me. You continuously lied to me about your identity.”

 “Excuse me, mister, but you faked your own death for two years.”

 “That’s different.”

 “I didn’t fake my own death, Sherlock. I only lied about my identity to protect you.”

 “You did such a great job,” he said sarcastically.

 “I got captured, you didn’t,” she said, “I came here to apologize. I should have told you earlier.”

 “I need to think about this,” he said, looking away from her. He stood up to lock himself in his bedroom. Molly’s lips set in a grim line. This wasn’t good. When he hadn’t come out after an hour, she decided to check in on him.

 “Sherlock?”

 He sat on the bed, another cigarette in his hand. “I have decided to accept your apology. Never do that to me again.”

 “I won’t,” She promised. He stood up and wrapped his arms around her. She was surprised by this unexpected action but gave in. He clung to her. She smelled him, got intoxicated by his smell. He smelt of cigarettes and Gucci cologne.

“I missed you,” Sherlock confessed, “I missed you being around at night.”

“Me too. It’s not fun staying at the facility 24/7.”

His hand touched her cheek, they were mere inches from each other. Molly released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. He leaned in and kissed her. Molly was surprised but kissed him back. She realized now she had missed this. Warmth, love. When they broke their kiss, she held him. “Stay with me tonight,” he whispered.

“I will,” she promised.

* * *

 

The next morning, she woke up in Sherlock’s bed. He was showering, singing Beatles’ songs. She smiled. She hadn’t felt this happy in a very long time. Molly grabbed Sherlock’s shirt from the bed and buttoned up. She smelled fresh coffee, glad Sherlock had thought of her.

“There you are, miss Hooper.”

Mycroft Holmes sat in Sherlock’s chair. Molly blushed, suddenly very aware that she was only wearing her red underwear and Sherlock’s crisp white shirt.

“Good morning?” Molly said hesitantly.

“Moriarty has sent us a warning.” Sherlock stepped out the bathroom, only wearing a towel, unsurprised.

“Hello, brother dear,” he greeted him and walked over to the kitchen to pour himself a drink. He was seeming too relaxed for someone who just got off heroin. 

“Did you take something, this morning?” Mycroft asked.

“No, I didn't,” was Sherlock’s answer.

“Good,” Mycroft said, “I see you have discovered the identity of our best agent.”

“Do emphasize the “best”,” Molly said, with a smile.

Mycroft turned to her. “That was until I found her wearing the shirt of the man she was supposed to protect.”

Molly bit her tongue. She had a thousand things to say to Mycroft, several opportunities to provide him with the cheeky answer he deserved, although she was fairly sure he wouldn’t appreciate an answer like that. If he was to be her brother in law somewhere in the future, she better started building a good relationship with him.

Mycroft roared about losing her cover, how she’d compromised the entire mission and that Moriarty was after them now. Sherlock noticed Molly’s anxiety and pushed her gently behind him, so she didn’t have to face Mycroft anymore. He may be not a superhero that saved the world, but he was a man who would protect his girlfriend. Mycroft left after the fifteen-minute rant; he even yelled “goodbye” to Mrs. Hudson when he left. They could hear her complaining about the young man’s bad attitude. Molly looked at Sherlock, unsure of what to say.

“What warning did he sent us?” Molly asked, “Mycroft has been lecturing us for fifteen minutes but did not mention it once.”

“You were too distracting,” Sherlock answered, smiling. He reached for his phone. “Take a look.”

Moriarty sent a video. He was sitting on a throne, wearing his suit. “Dearest Molly, I am so very grateful for the toy you’ve built me. Look how well it works!” The camera moved to a tied-up man, blindfolded. Moriarty laughed and shot him. “I am happy. I am ready for our big confrontation, Molls. See you at Piccadilly Circus at 18:00 tonight.”

Molly looked speechlessly at the iPhone in her hand. “We can’t let him win, we cannot allow him to have access to such weaponry.” She gave Sherlock his phone back and hurried back to her bedroom downstairs. She pulled a pair of leggings and a hoodie from her closet, and whilst she was slipping her shoes on, she called Lestrade.

“I am on my way now. I’ve seen the message, we have to finish the suit today,” she said, raising her voice. Then she dialed Tony, while she was driving her car.

“Tony, what’s the status on the suit?”

“You need to run the last tests, then it’s ready to go, my dear.”

Molly sighed relieved. “I’ll be there in five.”

Suddenly, her life had turned around. She was no longer playing a role to protect Sherlock, she was no longer someone she was not. She was working with her best friend, dating the man she’d fallen in love with and protecting London and the rest of the UK by wearing a metallic suit. Yeah, totally normal.

She parked the car in front of the building and ran inside. The suit was shining.

“I am ready, Tony,” she said.

“Open,” he said to the suit. The suit opened, so Molly could get in.

She was hesitant, but the suit closed and turned on. She couldn’t see much with the mask on, but with Friday’s help, it was enough. She and Tony ran through a few tests, like shooting fireballs at moving targets, flying and combat.

“You’re moving way too gentle!” Tony said frustrated after he’d won a practice battle, “I am not hitting you hard right now; I can promise you that Moriarty will. It’s not that easy.”

“Listen to Tony, Molly,” Sherlock came in, carrying three Starbucks cups, “Got coffee.”

“Who is this guy? Did he willingly get us coffee” Tony said sarcastically, “The first time in God-knows-how-long.”

“Be glad he actually got you coffee, Tony,” Molly said as Sherlock handed her the cup, “He could have only gotten his girlfriend some.”

“I am honored to be part of the group of people you consider important enough to get coffee for.”

“Moriarty has texted me, reminding me that he wants to see you at 18:00,” Sherlock told her.

“We have two hours left,” Molly said, “I’ll take the suit off, in order for it to charge. What about take-out?”

“I already called the Chinese place you love so much,” Sherlock told Molly, “They’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”

Even Tony seemed impressed by this statement. Molly kissed Sherlock briefly on the lips.

“Thank you.”

They ate in silence, Molly was wondering what Moriarty would attempt. She decided to take the suit with her, but not to wear it immediately. It would send the wrong signal. What Moriarty wanted to do, that was his choice. She wanted to solve this conflict peacefully. Sherlock had told her that was not going to work. Moriarty wanted a showdown, one bigger than the one on the Bart’s rooftop. Something with the public involved – that’s why he’d picked Piccadilly Circus.

Molly put her earpiece in and got on the bus. Sherlock and Tony would take a different one, their bus would be stationed on the side. That bus also contained the suit.

When they arrived at the square, at 17:59, it was empty. Mycroft had given orders to clear the place so that no civilian could get involved.  Molly got out and stood in front of the statue.

“Where are you, Moriarty?” She mumbled.

“He’s approaching,” she heard Tony say, “The suit is ready. I can jump in at any time if you want me to.”

“I’ll deal with him on my own,” she whispered. She saw Jim Moriarty walking. He wore his suit, the light blue and yellow one she had made him. She had to admit, it turned out rather nicely. Somewhere she regretted not being able to make it herself.

“Molly Hooper,” Moriarty greeted her, “What a surprise.”

“You summoned me,” She answered, “I see you’re wearing my suit.”

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t know why we’re having this showdown thing? I thought it would be nice to introduce the suit to the public and thank you, as its creator.”

“Pardon me? You were the one that kidnapped me and said you’d hurt my family. You called this our big showdown.”

“I’m hurt, Molls. Don’t you remember me?” Moriarty spread his arms, “We went to primary school together.”

“If we did, I think I could remember you.”

“ _He’s not preparing for an attack,”_ Molly heard Tony whisper in her ear, “ _We honestly have no idea why he hasn’t attacked yet.”_ She heard Sherlock yell “ _It’s Moriarty,”_ in the background.

She smiled.

Moriarty started walking. “Walk with me,’ He said.

“I’d rather not.”

“I’ll tell you why you should remember me.”

She gave in and started walking.

“Don’t you remember Jimmy?”

“Jimmy?” Molly had to think for a second, “No way. You’re _Jimmy?”_

“I am,” He confirmed.

“What happened to you? You suddenly disappeared after you left for primary school.”

“Oh, I killed a kid.”

“Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, my dear. I couldn’t tell you, you were seven when that happened. You wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“You were ten when you killed that kid?”

“I was,” Moriarty said.

“You’re a monster,” she spat.

“No, I’m not. I was just bored.”

“If you’re bored, you go for a walk or go knit or something. You’re not going around killing innocent children.”

“He made fun of my sneakers.”

“I don’t care,” Molly answered, “I loved you like a brother, Jim, and I missed you after you left, but this is unforgivable. Gosh, you should be in prison.”

“They cannot catch me, darling,” Moriarty said, “And Mycroft Holmes really, really tried.”

 _“He basically confessed, Molls,”_ Tony said, “ _You have permission to take him down.”_

“You just told me you killed a kid,” She said and shot at him. He flew backward, landed on the ground.

“That hurt, Molly Hooper,” Jim sat up. He shot bullets at her, but she saw them coming and took off. Hovering over Piccadilly Circus, she contemplated her choices. She decided to use the sonic pulse to paralyze Moriarty temporarily and use the clamps.

In theory, it was a good plan, but in reality, she still needed some practice with shooting on goal.

Moriarty ducked, avoiding her sonic pulse.

“Damn,” she swore.

_“His suit is less sophisticated than yours, Molly. You could use the unibeam,” Sherlock suggested._

“That will take up about 30% of my battery,” She answered.

“ _It isn’t a battery!”_ Tony replied. She heard him pushing Sherlock away from the microphone, _“Molly, don’t use the unibeam, try to paralyze him again. Or shoot some missiles at him, take him down, paralyze him and capture him._ ”

“You want to play dirty, Molls?” Moriarty screamed, firing some bullets at her. She went up, and the bullets missed her.  

She flew a couple of rounds over the square, trying to shake Moriarty off. It didn’t work. 

“ _Shoot something!”_ She heard Sherlock yell. She started shooting missiles at Moriarty, and she actually hit him. Well, Wednesday hit him for her. Moriarty’s left engine shut down, he fell down. Molly saw her chance to shoot a safety net at him. He fell on the ground, completely captured. She landed.

Moriarty put his mask off. “Congratulations, Molly Hooper. You won.”

Agents from S.H.E.L.F. appeared from everywhere and nowhere. Moriarty was taken away. Molly stood in the middle of the chaos.  
  
“Take the suit off me, take it home, Wednesday,” Molly ordered. Wednesday did what she asked, and took the suit off. She walked over to the trailer where Tony and Sherlock were waiting for her. The moment she walked in, Tony hugged her. “You did well, Molls.”

When Tony let go of her, Sherlock kissed her.

She clung to him. She hadn’t felt the fear when she was out there; it had been numbed by the adrenaline. “Let’s go home,” Sherlock whispered, “I’ll draw you a hot bath and get you tea.”

Molly smiled. “I’d like that, yes.”


End file.
